Sunday, September 20, 2009

Royal Ayr Maroc an Me


Musashi Sez:

Yu kin looks at flyin 2 waes. On the 1 paw, it mayks yer eerz crankee. On the othr paw, ther is the pertee stooardessis, whu smylz at yu an givs yu fud, an somtims a blankee. OK. More than 2 waes. On the 3th paw, ther is all that annoyin noiz, an the hoomin peeples whu givs yu the eevl ey or mayks snottee remarks about yer aminal “naytchr.” Huh. But, on yer lastest paw, yu sertenlee get to playsiz reellee, reellee fast!

Mom Says:


Agent Octavian curled up on his Air Maroc blanket, stretched, curled, stood, shook himself, and curled up again, but in vain. His mind racing in anticipation, he could not sleep. The businessman in the seat next to him sighed dramatically, and since he had otherwise been fairly nice to Octavian, the nouveau spy felt guilty. (But t least he had learned some French from sleeping on the phrasebook.)

Almost ready to give up, Octavian pulled out the big guns. He had counted sheepdogs and he had tried to meditate on the oneness of tuna. Now he went for broke. Where a human people would have pulled out a battered copy of a William James novel, or a Henry James psychological treatise (because the whole family has soporific effects on most humans), Octavian turned his mind to home, imagined himself once again as “Musashi, house cat,” and asked his mom what she was reading about. “Well!” she said in his head, “You know how I’ve been reading Genesis at school? Well, it turns out it was written by a whole bunch of different men, with all these different biases and agendas, and then, like a few hundred years later, was redacted by—” It worked every time. Octavian was out like a light, and didn’t wake up until the stewardess roused him to get his seatbelt on as they descended toward Marrakech.

The airport at Marrakech was bright white and ultra modern, so modern in fact, that it prefigured the future, and reminded Agent Octavian ominously of the Death Star. Luckily, being himself a black cat, Octavian had never taken omens too seriously; if he did, he’d be able to do nothing else all day. So he licked his paw, let the feeling pass, and proceeded through Customs.

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